


Studying Too Hard

by ecaracap



Series: HTGAWM RP Fics [3]
Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Disorder, Community: 1-million-words, M/M, Panic Attacks, Studying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 10:36:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4432229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ecaracap/pseuds/ecaracap
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor spends a night studying for the bar and his final exams before it begins to take a toll on him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Studying Too Hard

_The state refund check became income when received in 2015, and must be reported on Roger and Belinda’s 2015 final federal text return…_

Connor stares with bleary eyes at the practice test booklet for the Pennsylvania Bar Exam. The questions are soul-suckingly repetitive, trying much too hard to be politically correct. How many Sally’s and Miguel’s can he pretend to care about?

Spread out next to his bar booklets are his notes for his Corporate Law class, the last exam he needs to take before he can graduate. It’s not particularly more difficult than any of his other classes this year, but there are a lot of useless facts and Connor needs to remember all of them for the exam.

_Belinda is the CFO of a proprietary company that is comprised of 46 members…_

Connor frowns at his notes - that’s not right. That can’t be right. He blinks hard for a moment, his eyes red and dry from hours spent reading. Notes, sample exams, old tests…they all begin to blend together. Names and dates, companies, crimes - nothing’s the same, everything’s the same.

He hastily pushes the practice Bar Exam out of his way in frustration. Underneath his notes, he finds a stray sonogram, one of the many Kara has sent them the past few months. This one is one of his favorites, which is why it is always at his desk - his little girl is clearly grasping her foot like she’s stretching in there. He runs his fingers over the picture as he imagines what his baby daughter will be like when she gets here.

Beneath the sonogram is a receipt for the wooden crib they bought, which will be delivered on Saturday. $349. And that was only one piece of the baby’s nursery. In the small amount of downtime he’s had, Oliver and he have been shopping constantly for things the new baby will need. It added up quickly which made Connor all the more nervous about his job situation. 

He had a few prospects, but nothing solid yet. And with Oliver in preparation to leave his job once the baby is born, everything depended on Connor getting a job. A good job too. If he doesn’t find one soon, his entire little family will be starving and homeless. Everything depended on him. 

As he thinks of the money, his career, his life, he starts to become anxious. His breath quickens as his head feels light, extremely strange. When he looks down at the sonogram again, he swears he can see it moving, just like the videos they’ve seen during the appointments. His eyes go wide and he leans in to get a closer look at the picture. When he does, he sees the baby’s foot moving in the picture.

Connor gasps and throws the picture on the floor with trembling hands. He tries to get up, but his knees are weak. His limbs feel too heavy for his body, his clothes too tight, too warm. When did he even put this sweater on? It was always so hot in their apartment. Or was it? He couldn’t even remember. Why was he in here all alone? He should be at the library. No, they would never let him go to the library on his own.

He glances at the papers strewn over his desk, the words seeming to vibrate on the page. He swallows hard as he tries to break though he’s finding it increasingly more difficult, which causes him to panic even more. Connor pushes his books and papers off the desk with a loud thud, his hands shaking even worse now. This was all pointless anyway. He would never pass this exam, let alone the bar. No one will want to hire him like this. He should just tell Oliver he can’t do this, not now.

At the sound of the books falling, Oliver comes in from where he was working in the living room to see what happened, “Connor?”

Connor just looks at him, his eyes wide, his breathing coming in rapid, shallow gasps now. “No,” he tells Oliver simply. “I can't,” he says, shaking his head, trying to convey his thoughts to Oliver, all the thoughts of not being able to handle everything.

Oliver recognizes what’s happening to Connor right away - Connor has had a handful of panic attacks in front of him in the time they’ve been together. But he hasn’t seen Connor this bad since that fateful night years ago. He kneels down in front of Connor, taking his hands firmly, looking up at his face, “Look at me - just breath, okay?”

Connor continues to look at the papers on the ground, simultaneously hoping they’ll stop moving and that they’ll continue to move so he can prove to Oliver he’s not crazy. Because words that move are something crazy people see, but if Oliver sees it too…

“Connor,” Oliver says more firmly, grasping Connor’s chin in his hand, forcing him to look down at him, “Look at me. Only at me. And breath.”

Connor looks at him with big, nervous eyes, his hands still trembling. He blinks as he watches Oliver’s eyes, the eyes of the man he loves, which never fails to draw him in. He tries to take a deep breath, but it hurts and he lets out a small, strangled gasp. Oliver reaches out to put a firm hand on the center of Connor’s chest to draw his attention there. “Big deep breath with me, okay?” he tells him, as he mimics breathing in deeply.

Connor takes a few shaky breaths, but he lets out a long one out of his lips. Oliver nods, rubbing his chest comfortingly, “Good…good. Keep breathing.” Oliver stands up again, urging Connor out of his chair. Connor stands on wobbly legs, but he follows Oliver slowly out to the living room where he deposits Connor onto the couch.

The two of them curl up on the couch, Oliver simply rubbing Connor’s back for a long time without saying anything. After awhile, Oliver is convinced Connor’s breathing is back to normal and that he won’t slip into another attack. “So what happened there?”

“I was studying,” Connor says softly, into Oliver’s chest, “All the words kept…jumbling together. And then I saw the sonogram. And the bill for the crib.” Oliver nods, sensing where this is going though he allows Connor to continue. “I thought about how much the crib cost. And how much I need to find a job. That me finding a job completely depends on me doing well on these tests. And then…the picture was moving. Then the words…”

“You’re okay now,” Oliver tells him, running a hand through his hair, “I think you’re done studying for the night.”

“Yeah…” Connor says weakly, “Me too.”

Oliver leans down to kiss Connor’s head gently, “We’re going to be okay too. Everything’s going to be fine.”

Connor nods against Oliver’s chest, clinging to him tightly, “I hope so."


End file.
